The Tiniest Wings of a Butterfly
by Zarius
Summary: Gloria Baker is ready to make a bold statement and, with renewed determination, she prepares to emerge from the chrysalis...


**M.A.S.K**

**THE TINIEST WINGS OF A BUTTERFLY**

**WRITTEN BY ZARIUS  
**

**DISCLIAMER: M.A.S.K and all related characters are trademarked by Kenner Toys and D.I.C/Cookie Jar Entertainment**

* * *

As she stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the stream of waters below, Gloria held the note tight to her chest, she checked her reading glasses and began to read it, word for word, she refused to rush through to get to the words that stirred her the most.

She felt a touch on her shoulder, a reassuring touch, but one she couldn't lean on at this stage.

"Ready?" came a slow and weary voice.

Gloria smiled.

"I need an extra moment" she said

The man stood away from her, she thanked him and carried on reading the note, lost in thought.

It had taken a lot of practise to get to this point. Practise, precision, and plenty of assurance and reassurance from everyone around her, now she needed to be composed, she needed to be confident, and to play to her best possible audience: Herself.

For if she could move herself, she could move mountains.

The calm breeze cooled her nerves, the sound of the crashing waves locked her into a sense of serenity. She imagined herself riding over the waves in Gator with one of the most important men in her life, willing and able to dominate the deep end and swim against the venomous tide.

Those memories clung to her, those days of enduring conflict and shielding her friends from the cruel whips and piranhas.

It was so much easier to define good and evil, to define who was on your side, and who wasn't.

Flash forward to now and the enemy whip was sheltered firmly in the friendly camp. It was a nightmare to navigate through and hard to stomach, to believe some of her finest friends had been charmed by a former snake. Many a fragile soul could not hope to have taken it.

She had let it get to her. She had let it define her actions, and in doing so she had made mistakes, mistakes that had compromised fellow agents, and another of the great men in her life. A misadventure when driving home had caused a near fatal error and a crash that had injured him, and had floored her.

She made a further mess in the evenings spent worrying about him, and counting the days on her calender towards another upcoming event only served to remind her of the stockpile of stress that had been steadily mounting all year

A year where she had barely coped with the changing aspects of good and evil, unable to see clear through the blurred lines.

A year where she had to endure the ups and downs of a rollercoaster romance, where throwning caution to the wind had resulted in a turbulant storm for all that surrounded her

And now a year where she would call time on a career. A year where she would resign from it all

She knew she had to be sturdy for this. The note she read would be an extension of her new found persistence.

She turned to the man with the reassuring shoulder, Matt Trakker, and embraced him

"I'm ready now" she said

Matt smiled and, holding her hand, took her to Thunderhawk, the two boarded it and were soon gracing the clouds with the vehicle's glided wings and twin propulsion engines moving it through the beautiful gentle sunset, the wind, Gloria stuck her head out the open door and took in the exhilarating air.

The car soon landed near an extravagant silver-tipped building, where a fleet of vehicles had gathered. Matt and Gloria stepped out of Thunderhawk and entered the building, Matt making sure to put his id over to the large lanky bouncer standing at the foot of the entranceway.

Gloria and Matt separated as they reached the lobby, Matt assuring Gloria he would be in the audience with everyone else, Dusty, himself, Alex, Burns, Hondo, Brad, Vanessa, whether she liked that or not, and Clutch.

Especially Clutch.

Gloria assured herself that what she was about to say would be all done with him and their future in mind

So many fragile instances, this would not be chiefly among them

She entered the room that led to the back of a large stage, she peered behind the curtain and saw a fountain of faces. She steeled herself and waited to be introduced.

The man introducing her, Jacques, was always very full of energy and had a flavour for tales of exotic wine and even exotic misadventure. He could keep the crowd entertained for hours on end. It was only when he was about to recall the incident in Venice that Gloria dashed onto the stage to a rousing ovation

It wasn't just her fellow agents that were here, but members of the racing community. Her two professions, her two worlds, fused together, all in her honour, as she was receiving, from her mentor in racing, her coach, 65 year old Curtis Dwight, a special recognition award for her many years in service of the circuit.

Upon receiving the award and sharing a tender reunion with her mentor, Gloria walked over to the podium, checked the speaker, placed the crumpled up note down, checked that her glasses were still on, and read aloud

"When I was eight, I saw something terrible, it was a documentary on Mark Woodley's passing, in it I saw Woodley's Hellbender jet car collide at the top end of the racing strip, clipping the nose of a rival jet car on it's way to annihilation. Woodley was pronounced dead at the scene. In that instant, the narrator of the documentary said it best: He had given his life for racing.

In that instant, I feel like I learned everything about life, the big picture was painted in such rapid and sudden pictures that were so vivid they remain locked in my mind's eye to this day, and have shaped every decision I've made in racing and beyond. I learned that you have to dedicate yourself, your heart and your passion, to something you believe in. I saw, in that horrifying crash, a chrysalis. A part of me died and I acquired a new edge, and in doing so, all of me evolved, and when I emerged, I was born running. In those instances where you realize you need to devote everything you are to a moment that can instantly end you, you can be so fragile, and you can burn up so easily. The tiniest wings of a butterfly can be clipped, just like that.

After running for a long time now on that track and around the world, and I've come to a conclusion...I don't want to be clipped, yet I still want to fly, and thus I'm pulling back from racing, I'm going to ascend to the height of my second profession as a proud agent of the Mobile Armoured Strike Kommand, M.A.S.K, under the guidance of Matt Trakker and his ever dependable team, my team, my family. Some of you will think I'm leaving you, my _first_ family, behind, but I don't view it that way at all. I'm going to be looking after you, after every brother and sister you have, every friend, every lover, everyone that attends your racing, everyone motivated to follow your passion and and everyone who ultimately enters their own chrysalis and emerge ready to burn through the remainder of their days devoted forever more to their passions until the day they die. It is time for me to reach one finish line and ride well beyond it.

People have often described me as one of those butterflys with easily clipped wings, that I'm so fragile, and just another loose branch on the learning tree, well it's barely autumn from my perspective. Green and yellow is all over my old M.A.S.K uniform. Green as a leaf and as bright as the sun, I feel part of the Earth with it on as I serve it with M.A.S.K backing me. I feel the Earth is a sister I have the oppertunity to honor, protect, cherish, and support, I hope you all think the same of me as well, that I'm a sister you will all continue honor, protect and support as I learn to see through the ever blurring lines and define the next step in the race for survival, our joint survival, as one enduring whole. Wish me luck, and thank you"

The ovation was loud and expected. Gloria had faith in her friends amongst the profession she was giving up, they would understand and they would let her be, and most importantly, let her go.

Rivals of hers also in attendance came up to shake her hand. They were probably glad to see the back of her but felt compelled to reward her for her stirring speech,

She cut through the warmth and applause and reached out to her boyfriend, still recovering from the bad spill that had occurred with his vehicle WIldcat when Gloria had accidently covered his eyes and caused the slip up on the road while he was driving.

He was keen to return the favour, by covering her eyes and guiding her to another room, where he released his grip on her face. She was taken aback to find a large cake with a fine crisp raspberry coating and the lines '_Congratulations Comrade_' written all over it

"Words by Bushkin" said Matt

"And the cake by Vanessa" Brad added

Gloria gulped.

"Yeah...that, any way past that?" Gloria asked in reference to Vanessa's baking skills. Vanessa gave her a scowling look, but gradually began to smile and exchanged a much needed hug with her, ok with the criticism.

"The rib is right, but what's at stake is raw" cryptically spoke Bruce Sato.

"Come again?" said Brad

"Bruce simply means that Gloria should worry more about what her job entails than a friendly jibe from us" Matt replied

"Trust me Matt, fear is for the fragile, and now that I don't have two of my favourite worlds colliding, I don't think the fear is going to follow me as much anymore" Gloria sternly vowed, "Besides, I've still got passion number three 'kicking about'"

"And that would be?" Clutch asked

Gloria grabbed his arm and tossed him over her shoulder, sending him hurtling into the cake.

"Duh, my karate courses" she said, kissing Clutch on the cheek, lifting some of the raspberry cream off his cheek and sticking her finger into his mouth to make him taste it, followed by everyone joining one another in a raw and wry burst of shared laughter

**THE END**


End file.
